


nobody's ready for days like these

by bessemerprocess



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 19:46:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18644875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bessemerprocess/pseuds/bessemerprocess
Summary: In which Gabriel Lorca learns he'll never go home, and decides to bring home to him. The consequences of which are disastrous for pretty much everyone else.





	nobody's ready for days like these

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this in my WIP folder is "The Darkest Timeline," I'm just warning you. All the non-con and violence is off-screen in the first part, but the second part not so much. 
> 
> I'm not abandoning GDWTGG, but this broadsided me when I was writing that, and so I took a moment to get it out of my head so I could go back to Goblins. 
> 
> Also, Disco peeps, where do you guys hang out on the internet these days? I need people to talk to about all my Star Trek feels.

It’s been two hard years of war within and without the Federation. But today, Ensign Vihaan Ahuja walks carefully through the last stronghold to fall, Lt. Mayez at his back. He wouldn't put it past them to booby trap the place, they’ve found plenty of traps other places. Not here at the heart of the enemy, though. 

This is what Starfleet’s Strategic Search and Rescue Unit does, save people and then clean up the mess when it’s too dangerous for anyone else. It means he’s had a lot of practice getting through locked out doors. This one is being stubborn. He’s about to manually bypass the lock when the computer relents and the door swishes open. These used to be the Captain’s quarters, Ahuja knows, they’ve been studying schematics for a month in preparation for this. 

“Computer, lights!” Ahuja called, but the lights don’t turn on. The computer doesn’t even beep in response. “Computer, you there?”

Mayez shakes her head, looking at her tricorder. “Looks like computer access has been disabled in here.”

“His Royal Asshole lived without computer access? Seems out of character.”

“For that traitor? I’d believe anything. We should be extra careful. Probably has his whole quarters rigged like on Behvet V.” Mayez pulls out her tricorder to scan the room again. “It’s not picking up anything, but that doesn’t mean anything.” So far the corridors have been hauntingly empty, abandoned in the last days of the war.

The antechamber is sterile and spartan, not so much as a knick knack to break up the standard Starfleet utilitarianism. There’s no one hiding, and no traps set here, but Ahuja’s skin crawls with some unseen wrongness. 

Getting through the door to the Captain’s bedroom is even more difficult than the entrance to the quarters. He has to pop the access panel and manually rewrite it before the door will open. 

There’s someone or something in the gloom, and Ahuja readies his phaser, Mayez mimicking his stance beside him. 

“I’m Lt. Teodora Mayez of Starfleet’s Strategic Search and Rescue Unit. I need you to move your limbs away from your body and slowly step towards me.”

The response is a broken sob, female, probably human, Ahuja thinks. It’s coming from the small area between the bed and the outer bulkhead. The bed is blocking their view of whomever is back there and so Ahuja breaks out his most calming voice. 

“It’s okay. I’m Ensign Vihaan Ahuja. We can help you if you are injured,” he says, scanning for signs of movement. 

The voice this time is male. “We can’t move.”

Ahuja is braced for an attack as Mayez motions for him to cover her. 

“Okay, I’m coming to you. Don’t make any sudden moves.” 

The responding chuckle is dark and broken. Ahuja understands as soon as he sees them. 

He’s seen a lot of shit in this war, both Klingons and human embracing some inner barbarity. He’s not expecting this though, not here. 

They’re both human, it’s easy enough to see when they are naked as the day they were born. The man’s ankle is caught in a cuff that is chained to the wall. Ahuja’s not sure he’s even going to be able to stand when they free him. He’s gaunt, been starved to the point Ahuja can make out his ribs between the fading bruises. 

The woman is free, but she’s probably seven months pregnant. She’s far too skinny, but not nearly as skeletal as her companion. If they’ve been stuck in here since the so called Emperor fell, without computer access, without a working replicator… well he’s not sure why they didn’t find corpses. 

Ahuja holsters his phaser and speaks into his com at Mayez’s nod. “We need medics to the Captain’s quarter asap.”

“Acknowledged. Medics on route.”

“Can you tell us your names?” Mayez asks, as Ahuja extracts a cutter from his pack. Before the war, they mostly got deployed to natural disasters and the occasional ship failure. The cutters are designed to cut through rebar without cutting flesh, for pulling people out of collapsed buildings or shuttles. He’s never had to cut someone out of chains before. Fuck this war anyway. 

The man looks at them blankly for a moment, like he may not actually remember his own name, before shaking himself and responding. “I’m Captain Christopher Pike of the USS Enterprise. This is Specialist Michael Burnham.”

Ahuja stares. He can’t help it. Enterprise’s missing Captain and Starfleet’s first mutineer, chained naked in the personal quarters of Starfleet’s greatest traitor. He wouldn’t believe it if he read it in a holonovel. 

Ahuja moves slowly and deliberately, showing Pike the cutter before he approaches. “I’m going to cut the shackle off your ankle now. The cutter can’t harm flesh, but if you can stay still it will be easier to get it off you,” he explains. 

“Michael’s gonna panic if you get much closer,” Pike says, laying a hand on Burnham’s arm. “She’s hasn’t been real responsive since Sarek died, but she fought Lorca every time. Human and male is probably a little too much right now. “

Ahuja wants to throw up, wants to burn this ship down, wants to kill Emperor Lorca with his own bare hands. Instead, he hands Mayez the cutter and slowly steps backwards to give Burnham more breathing room. 

“Is it ok with you if I cut Captain Pike free, Specialist Burnham?” Mayez gets no response either positive or negative, so she kneels to work the cutter against the cuff of Pike’s shackle. Burnham watches her, but doesn’t nothing to interfere. 

It’s Pike who is trying not to panic now. Ahuja can see it in how stiffly he holds his body, the shuddering of the breaths he is trying to calm, as Mayez tries her best to be non threatening. 

Not that Mayez ever looks threatening. She’s tiny, with long black hair pulled into two braids, and cute in a way that makes people underestimate her all the time. Pike’s not underestimating her though. Pke’s pretty clearly waiting for her to reach up and slit his throat. What the fuck was Emperor Lorca even doing with these two anyway?

Lt. Cmdr. Shrall has been SSRU’s head tactical medic since the war began, and she’s been listening in since Ahuja called for the medics. She makes her approach quietly, but not stealthily. Injured people often don’t take well to people sneaking up on them, they’ve all learned. 

Shrall is blue and antennaed and absolutely does not look like Gabriel Lorca, which can only be a win until this situation, Ahuja thinks as she slides up to Mayez. 

“I’m a medic. I would like to help you if you will agree,” Shrall says, going down on to her knees, hands spread in front of her. 

Pike looks to Burnham and Burnham stares Shrall down for a long second before turning back to Pike and nodding slightly. 

“Okay, I’m going to run a few scans with my tricorder to make sure it’s safe for both of you to move, but first my medic, Traasz, the Pelonian over there, has blankets. Is it okay for her to bring them to me?” 

Shrall loves Terran horses. She co-owns the only stable of them on Andorra, and shows off holos like they are her children. Ahuja has met them once, seen Shrall talk down a spooked mare, calmed the huge beast with just the tone of her voice. 

She’s doing the same thing now, slowly, steadily explaining what she intends to do before tucking the blanket Traasz brought around them. Shrall’s got her tricorder out, scanning Pike and letting Burnham see all the readouts when the shimmer of a transporter beams into the antechamber. 

Everyone has their phaser pointed at the beam, including Burnham, who has lifted Shrall’s without anyone noticing. 

“Stand down.” It’s a command, the kind the reverberates right down your spine, and Ahuja lowers his phaser when he recognizes Admiral Cornwell. 

She’s looking more pirate than Starfleet, with an eye patch courtesy of the Klingons and a wicked scar she must have gotten in the last battle with Lorca. Ahuja had seen her in the vids, just after, blood still dripping down her face, Gabriel Lorca’s body at her feet. 

Mayez and the other medics lower their phasers, but Burnham clings tightly to hers. 

It doesn’t seem to phase the Admiral. She looks, he can’t even name the emotion on her face, broken and joyous and furious all at once. 

“Tushah nash-veh k’du,” the Admiral says, spreading her fingers in the ta’al. 

Burnham’s face crumples soundlessly, and she turns her face to bury it in Pike’s shoulder, letting the phaser drop. 

Shrall retrieves the phaser and gives the Admiral the dirtiest look Ahuja has ever seen on an Andorian face. 

“Admiral, the medical situation here has not yet stabilized,” Shrall says. 

“I understand that, but the political situation is just as unstable,” the Admiral replies, meeting Shrall’s gaze without flinching. 

“You may speak to them when Commander Soval decides they are stable enough to speak, and not until then, Admiral. Their scans show it is safe enough to beam them directly to Sick Bay.” 

“Is he dead?” It’s the first time any of them have heard Burnham speak. Her voice is ragged, breaking again and again. Her eyes are locked on Cornwell. 

“I killed him myself,” the Admiral says, and for the first time Ahuja is terrified of her. There is no regret there, no emotion, just a cold certainty that she did what she needed to do. 

Burnham nods, and then turns to Pike. The only word Ahuja catches is “cthia” and only because he took Vuhlkansu to fulfil his language requirement at the academy. 

——

Commander N’keth Arev Soval, son of Velekh, son of Torin has expected casualties. One always does on a mission like this. The casualties he had expect were those that came from booby traps and automated defenses. The USS Discovery had lain empty in orbit around Nvarr VI for a least a month, but Lorca’s followers had booby trapped other locales and it was best to be prepared. 

He is not expecting the sight that beams into his Sick Bay, though perhaps he is not surprised, either.

Lt. Cmdr. Shrall is everything he could want in a second, even though he had had to address his own biases when it came to Andorians in order to see that when she replaced Lt. Cmdr. Culpepper. 

She is kneeling on the floor in front of the two people who he deduces are his patients. One is a severely malnourished human male. The other is Michael Burnham. 

He attended the Vulcan Science Academy at the same time as Michael Burnham. Once he had even spoken to her briefly in a campus dining hall. His clan was not of the rarified heights that S’chn T’gai inhabit, but he had not held her humanity against her and she had not held the class of his clan against him. They had not had a logical reason to speak to one another after that moment, but Michael had occasionally greeted him if they crossed each other’s path heading to one class or another after that. It is possible he would not recognize her for lack of remembering if her face hadn’t been on every newsvid after the mutiny. 

Before she is fully aware of her surroundings, Soval can see the panic attack hit. His team moves to action a moment later. 

The other patient tries to calm her, does everything they teach in the Starfleet first aid classes. “We are on the Agnodike, exactly like the Doc said. This is Sick Bay. They only heal people. No one has been or will ever be tortured here. You are Michael Burnham and Gabriel Lorca is dead.” He repeats these last words like a mantra, even as they strike at Soval. 

Burnham doesn’t calm, though. Her panic, in fact increases, as Lt. Petros steps up to assist Shrall. She is projecting her wide eyed terror so hard Soval can see his Betazoid lieutenant flinch and back away before Shrall even motions for him to retreat. 

Shrall grabs a hypospray in her bag and presses it to Burnham’s neck, and the Commander crumples to the floor. 

It’s when the medics move into get Burnham on a biobed that Pike panics. 

“Captain Pike. Look at me, Captain Pike,” Shrall says. “I do not want to sedate you. I am afraid any standard sedative would do damage to your heart in this condition. I need you to take a deep breath, and another.” 

Pike copies her breathing, still looking wild about the eyes. “Commander Soval and I are going to help you up, and we’ll go to a biobed right next to Michael, ok? You’ll be able to see her the whole time.”

“Okay,” Pike replies, still too alert, waiting for an attack that will not come in Soval’s Sick Bay, not if there is anything he can do about it. 

Soval raises his eyebrow at his subordinate. Shrall would not normally volunteer him for a job the requires such physical contact with a patient. He trusts she would not do so without a good reason, so he approaches the tableau and introduces himself. “I am Dr. Soval. I will need to physically touch you in order to help you to the biobed. Is that acceptable?” 

“Yes,” Pike manages, and Soval turns his attention to Shrall. They lift Pike together, like the practiced team they are. It helps that he’s kilos underweight.They get him to the biobed without putting any weight on his feet at all. 

Soval ensure Pike is the the competent hands of Lt. Vrai, before turning to Shrall to get an update. She motions him outside the privacy fields and turns them on, as Soval looks at her questioningly.

“Admiral Cornwell will be arriving any minute. She beamed onto the scene before we had time to finish triaging them. I was able to hold her off, but I suspect she will have words for you about my performance,” Shrall says. 

“I will deal with her,” Soval promises. Loyalty to one's colleagues is essential in managing an operation such as this, especially such valued coworkers. 

——

It’s been a long, hard war or two for Katrina Cornwell, and she can feel it in her bones as she makes her way through the Agnodike’s corridors. Emergency medical beam-ups aren’t for unharmed Admirals, no matter how much she might want them to be, and so she arrives in Sick Bay five minutes behind Burnham and Pike.

Only to immediately be stopped by a Vulcan.

“Admiral Cornwell.”

“Dr. Soval.”

“The patients are currently under medical care.” Soval is interrupted by Pike calling out.

“Let me talk to her.” Its her first good look at Pike and she is appalled. She remembers him as a cadet, dogging George Kirk’s heels like the eager puppy he was. Now he’s laying on a biobed in a loose patient robe, looking lost and broken. 

“Surely it can wait until we have cataloged your injuries?” Soval says, but Cornwell steps around him, and sets herself at the head of Pike’s bed. 

“Report, Captain.”

“The Enterprise was called back after Q’onoS fell. We’d been inching closer to the Federation since word of the war began, even though we were supposed to stay out in the black. Then we ran into the Mketh. We limped our way home. The Discovery was the first ship we ran into on our way back.” Pike pauses, taking a breath that turns into a rattling cough. 

Kat waits him out. 

“Lorca sent over engineers, go the warp engines back on line. She’d be stuck under warp 2, but better than nothing. Then he said there was a message from Starfleet. The Discovery had been ordered to bring me in. We didn’t have working long range comms, but it all seemed reasonable. I handed command over to Number One and followed orders. I don’t know how long I was unconscious for after they beamed me over, I just know I woke up in the brig.”

Dr. Soval and his second, Shrall, are hovering, just waiting for a good reason to kick her out, but Pike keeps going. 

“By the time I knew anything, Lorca had declared himself Emperor. When he took the Yorktown, they transferred me over, but this time to his quarters instead of the brig. Three month ago, something changed, and he sent us back to the Discovery. He visited for a while, but it's been five weeks since we’ve seen him.”

Pike is flagging fast, even as he tries to keep himself together enough to give her the information that she needs. 

“He’s dead, Chris,” she says as gently as she can. “He’s dead, and he’s not coming back. He had a backup, somewhere, though. A copy of the computer system he was using to run his army,” she says. It’s not a lie, not exactly. Pike doesn’t need to know that Lorca had compromised the heart of Starfleet and taken over Control. Doesn’t need to know Control might still try to destroy them even without Lorca to egg them on. 

“We didn’t have computer access on Discovery, not after what we did with the computer on Yorktown,” Pike says, clearly begging her not to ask about whatever he and Burnham had done. “But Lorca used Discovery as his treasure ship more than once. I wouldn’t be surprised if you found whatever you are looking for there.”

He looks away from her, and she reaches out to take his hand. Hiding from whatever he’s been through will only make healing harder.

He tears his hand away as the explosion rocks the ship, cutting power to Sick Bay for a moment before the secondary systems kick in. 

“Cornwell to bridge! Are we under attack?”

“Negative Admiral, but the Discovery just initiated its self destruct. We managed to pull all of our people off in time.” 

“Damnit. Get teams out to see if we can find anything in the wreckage.”

It’s only when she stops speaking that she realizes Pike is no longer in the biobed. 

The medics have already rushed to him, where he’s crammed him against the hull beside Brunham’s biobed. There aren’t very many places to hide in Sick Bay. Burnham, thankfully, slept through the whole thing, sedated as she is. And isn’t that going to be a problem when she wakes, but first Kat has to deal with Pike. 

When the medics let her through it’s clear Pike has dissociated right out of the situation. “Chris, can you come back to me?” she asks. “Captain Pike?” She would try longer, but he’s also broken a leg, and the medics want him back on the biobed to fix it.

“Osteoporosis is a common side effect of long term malnutrition,” Shrall says to her, as Soval takes over from the medics. “I doubt he’ll be good for talking again for a while. You should go deal with your crisis Admiral, we’ll call you when either of them is fit to talk.”

Kat grumbles, but compiles. Just because she’s an admiral, doesn’t mean she doesn’t recognize sense when she hears it. And she need to know just exactly what happened to the Discovery. “Deal, Lieutenant Commander. Just don’t forget to comm me.”


End file.
